


Petrichor

by Little_Miss_Illusional



Category: Class of the Titans
Genre: Gen, Implied Relationships, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-19
Updated: 2013-01-19
Packaged: 2017-11-26 01:44:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,162
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/645158
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Little_Miss_Illusional/pseuds/Little_Miss_Illusional
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Petrichor; noun. The smell of dry rain on the ground.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Petrichor

Petrichor; noun. The smell of rain on dry ground.

**

Odie flicks through the morning newspaper, scanning the headlines absentmindedly. Herry glances over his shoulder, dropping toast crumbs from his mountainous stack. The brainy teen takes a moment to glower at his friend, and then resumes his analysis of the day's news.

"Can you hurry up and get to the weather section, Odie?" Herry requests impatiently, mouth full of jam toast. "I wanna go shoot some hoops later."

With a grumble, Odie turns to the meteorology page, handing the newspaper over. "Knock yourself out."

Herry frowns, pointing at the page. "Afternoon showers! And it's already-," he checks his watch, "-eleven thirty!"

Picking up his coffee mug, Odie makes a nonchalant gesture, taking himself and his empty mug to the kitchen. "Maybe you should have woken up earlier." He pauses, glancing back at his friend inquisitively. "Why did you sleep in, anyway? Last night wasn't a movie night."

The brawny teen shrugs. "I need lots of sleep. I'm a growing boy."

Odie looks his friend straight in the eye. "Herry, if you grow any more, Cronus will have to recruit you."

He left Herry pondering that little gem, and turned back into the kitchen. He glanced at the towers of plates, cups, cutlery and… was that a saucepan? With a sigh, he realised the washing up wasn't going to wash itself. And yet, it didn't seem fair that he has to be the one to clean what seems to be a week's worth of dirty dishes.

A thought strikes him, like lightning. A stroke of genius!

Odie grins.

**

The first drop of rain hits Neil in a moment of disbelief. He swipes his sunglasses off and inspects his forehead with his mirror, staring at the small droplet of water, and then at the sky. Another droplet hits him, dead in the eye, resulting in an ear-splitting screech.

"WHY?!" He cries, attempting to shield his hair as he rushes around the rooftop terracing, looking for cover. Rain drops from the sky like bullets. Or, at least, he imagines it that way, each droplet piercing his moisturiser layer and ruining his perfectly-straight hair. Rain was so not good for the pores.

He decides to cut his losses, and runs for the door. He pulls it shut behind him, racing down the halls and stairs. "ATHENAAAA!"

"What?" Comes the irritated reply. The goddess was used to his antics by now, but by Zeus she didn't have to like it.

"It's raining!" He cried, finding the deity in the laundry. Pouting, he threw his arms around her waist, burying his head into her shoulder.

There is silence as Athena's gaze is frozen on the teen moulded to her form. "Are you… hugging me?" She asks, finally, staring at Neil incredulously.

The blonde whimpers, nodding.

Athena shifts uncomfortably, and then awkwardly pats the boy's rain-damp head. There wasn't much else to do in this kind of situation.

**

The soft droplets of rain caress the windowpanes of the café. Atlanta stares out into the blue hues, the smell of the rain seeping in from the half-opened door. This was her favourite kind of rain. It was calm, soft rain. Not a miserable drizzle or irate downpour. This kind of rain left her feeling alive, with the smell of pure, unpolluted nature soaking into her skin. She longs to finish her coffee and race the door, to the park across the street, to feel the rain matt her hair.

Beside her, Archie grumbles, picking apart his pie. "I hate rain."

"You're an insensitive hydrophobe," she retorts, in the most venomous voice she can muster with a coffee-warm mouth. "Rain is beautiful."

The warrior rolls his eyes as he swallows the last of his pie unceremoniously. Crumbs plaster his face, puffed cheeks swell with pie. He's been learning too much from Herry, she thinks. Or maybe he's always been like this. She grimaces as he attempts to grin, the pie threatening to spill out. Despite being a less than girly girl, she still appreciates simple table manners.

"You're also a pig." She informs him, and goes to pay for their food.

**

Jay peers out of the glass doors, mentally cursing himself for not bringing an umbrella. Rain batters the edge of the building, thick sheets of water pouring from the sky relentlessly. The one day they hadn't driven to the school, the one time they didn't... He shakes his head dismissively.

"This is why you should develop your powers more," he mutters to the girl at his side, mocking a grimace.

Theresa laughs. "It's only a little bit of rain, Jay." Her eyes twinkle mischievously. "Unless you want me to call Herry and explain to him why he should drive all the way here and then all the way back, just because you don't want to walk home in the rain?"

He raises an eyebrow, but glances back out into the rain.

"Ready?"

"Ready."

The downpour hits him as a wave, soaking his essence in the smell of rain. He's aware that Theresa is at his side, and the concrete path below him. All else is rain, until a small hand slips into his, dragging him next to her. He falls into her rhythm, her pace a half jog, easy to keep with. The water crumbles on its way down as her hands push him forward. The world is lightening, taking shape, and turning to colour. It feels like it is being painted around them, bold brushstrokes in watercolour.

They stop at the traffic lights, well and truly drenched. She laughs up at him, her hair plastered to her face. He doesn't understand why, but he reaches out to brush a lock of wet hair from her face, their eyes locked.

"Thank you." She murmurs, lips wet with rain.

They both smile and the moment is so thick around them that he feels like dropping into it to let it carry him, all the way back to the dorm.

**

Athena slams the back door behind her, washing basket in hand. "You might have warned me about the torrential rainfall," she mutters to the only other occupant of the kitchen, dropping the basket of very wet clothing on the floor in a huff. "I had washing to dry."

Odie shrugs casually. "Sorry, Athena."

She flicks hair from her face, grumbling as she sees the mud she's tracked in from outside. She decides to clean it later, when the rest of the mortals arrive home – no doubt bringing mud and puddles with them. She sighs. Children. They may insist on being adolescents, but in her eyes, they are little more than drooling, squabbling babies.

With that thought, she remembers something else that she had to ask of the smallest mortal.

"Odie?"

"Yeah?"

The goddess pauses uncertainly, eying the small boy. "Can you explain why all the dishes are out on the patio?"

Odie grins sheepishly. "It's the rain's turn to do the washing up."

**Author's Note:**

> This story can also be read on Fanfiction dot net, under my drabble series 'Sleepless Demeanours'.
> 
> Thank you for reading.


End file.
